


I Contain All My Chaos

by NotYourSugarDaddy



Series: Monologue pieces [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotYourSugarDaddy/pseuds/NotYourSugarDaddy
Summary: An inner monologue of Elim Garak for the episode In The Pale Moonlight. No spoilers or real plot, just ramblings.





	I Contain All My Chaos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vampyfrank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampyfrank/gifts).



Nobody seems to understand, not that their understanding changes this. I wasn’t doing this for them, I wasn’t that self absorbed. I knew exactly what kind of monster I had unleashed when I started this, this little project. And I knew that I would have to see it through to the end, or die trying. This isn’t the sort of thing that you back down from half way through, even if you want to. And want to, or at least I want to want to, I know I should want to, and I certainly don’t want to quit. But I can’t quit. Quitting now would just leave me more hollow than when I started. I can’t go back to that, I can’t let it consume me like a black hole. So I have to keep going, forging ahead, supplying my personal black hole with other matter to consume, other people to hollow out. Keep the monster distracted, at least until I’m done with this.  
It’s difficult, keeping a beast like that fed in this economy. My prey is scarce, and learning. Improving its camouflage, and forcing me to hunt in more challenging terrain. They all look at me like I could explode at any moment, and take them with me. An implosion is more likely, but even that is an unlikely scenario. Still, they give me a wide berth, and flinch when I come around corners. They’re thinking they’re next, that I’m looking them over and picking out a target from amongst their disgusting mundanity. Good, let them avoid me. My next step requires the sort of isolation – peace – that I’d never get if anyone still thought I was innocent, that I needed their incessant support to help me get through this difficult ordeal.   
All their doubts are gone now. Everything has fallen back into place. They are certain of their roles and mine, of the order of things. They know who the enemy is and they know that I will be dealt with accordingly, and they accept it. They always accept it. It’s easy to accept. It feels good to be certain, unwavering. My task is my certainty, and my endgame keeps me grounded, focused, unwavering. Their obedience is their certainty, and even as my drastic actions leave them as stubborn and as faithful as ever, I still feel certain in my own disobedience. I was never so selfish as to think I could fix them all, or any of them. My selfishness was in my secrecy.   
I wasn’t trying to fix them. I wasn’t trying to fix myself, either. Not because I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, of course there is. But “broken” is subjective, and so is “fixed.” People say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So is truth, morality, fault, value – it works for a lot of things. I believe that what I’m doing is necessary, and as justified as such a project like this could be. I let them make peace with their gods, and their loved ones. At least, I did my best to give them that opportunity, but sometimes the circumstances didn’t allow for those small mercies.   
Really, I was doing them all favors. They would be lost without me, without my monster. What I did to them was enough, they didn’t need their gods or their families once they realised that I was proof of their suspicions, justification for everything they’ve ever thought about anyone else. And in those moments, they didn’t need to make peace with anyone because I gave them peace with themselves. It’s artificial peace, but it's not like any of them knew, and it’s not like I cared. Peace of mind is peace of mind, and mercy is mercy, no matter how false or insignificant.  
I never destroyed anyone, never left any mess. I contained my chaos, compartmentalized it. I kept it in its own neat, sanitary home, left it alone to pace and grow restless, hungry, and then I tossed it a meal. I am not a storm or a bomb, I’m a black hole. I never destroy, just consume. None of these guilty bystanders could ever satisfy the gnawing starvation inside me. They’re too hollow, too false. They’re inconsequential. I need to focus.


End file.
